I understand.

In recent days, You Hu had been leaving early each morning, dressed to the nines, and returning to Qingmo Courtyard only at dusk, a spring breeze upon his face. Yet every night, he would be seized by a bout of persistent coughing. Gu Fei did not inquire about his daily affairs; likewise, You Hu was not obliged to report his every move. Though he bore the title of advisor, in truth, he enjoyed even more freedom in Qingmo Courtyard than Gu Fei herself.

Several days passed like this before Gu Jiang stormed into Qingmo Courtyard, his face dark as thunder. Yet when he looked at Gu Fei, not a word could he utter, as if the blazing anger in his chest was blocked by a stone, not a single crack left for it to escape.

Gu Fei could guess what had happened—undoubtedly You Hu had done something to Gu Rou, causing Gu Jiang to lose his composure.

With an air of nonchalance, Gu Fei tossed fish food into the water tank, raising an eyebrow as she asked, “Father, what is it this time? Could it be you’re yearning for Madam Ku’s cooking again?”

She was in a rare mood for jest.

Gu Jiang flicked his sleeve, his ample belly heaving, and spoke through gritted teeth, “All these schemes—just to have me take your side, to make me stand against Gu Zhong? Well, today I’ll do as you wish. Do whatever you please!”

With that, he stormed out in fury.

A faint shimmer rippled in Gu Fei’s almond-shaped eyes, her lips curling in a sly smile as she lowered her lashes. Watching the koi swim in the tank, she said to Nightingale, who stood behind her, “When You Hu returns tonight, tell him I wish to see him.”

“Understood, miss,” Nightingale replied, tilting her head as she watched Gu Fei feed the fish. Then she added, “Miss, Madam Ku said you may only feed the fish this much—no more. Any extra, and the koi won’t survive.”

With that, she covered her mouth, unable to suppress her laughter.

No one would believe it, but though Gu Fei was as refined as a lotus and sharp-witted in all things, she simply could not keep living creatures alive.

Gu Fei shot her a half-amused glance, handing her the small cup of fish food with a feigned scold, “Daring to tease me, are you? From now on, feeding them is your duty. If the koi die, you’ll answer for it.”

Nightingale curtsied. “This maid will ensure your beloved pets grow plump and strong, miss.”

The two were exchanging playful words when Egret announced a visitor—Feng Lizhi had come.

Gu Fei’s face lit with delight. “Quick, show him in.”

Today, Feng Lizhi wore a pale jade-green robe with a round collar, his hair adorned with a jade coronet and a green hairpin, a fine silver chain with tiny beads draping among his locks, accentuating his elegant features, as beautiful as sculpted jade. Whenever Gu Fei saw him, she could not help but marvel—he truly deserved the title “Young Master Jade.” When he stepped into the hall, the light seemed to dim, as if every source of brightness had gathered upon him.

Gu Fei had prepared iced tea for the occasion. Her almond eyes narrowed in delight, a rare, genuine joy radiating from her entire being.

Such a Gu Fei astonished Nightingale. She studied Feng Lizhi, recalling that Madam Ku had mentioned him more than once, strictly warning them never to leave the two alone together.

“I suppose you’ve come today bearing good news,” Gu Fei began, holding her teacup, her little finger elegantly poised as she traced the rim.

Yet Feng Lizhi’s brows furrowed. He swept aside his robe and sat, looking at her as if he wished to speak but hesitated.

Gu Fei’s smile faded a little, confusion crossing her face. “Did I misjudge? Why such an expression, Lizhi?”

Feng Lizhi sighed. “It may be good news—or it may be bad.”

“Oh?” Gu Fei’s tone rose with interest. “Why do you say so?”

At these words, Feng Lizhi drew from his breast a deep purple invitation embossed with golden auspicious clouds, the words “Yizhou Ink Merchants Guild” inscribed upon it. “This is for you. The guild appoints you as its sixth Ink Envoy.”

Nightingale, ever quick, stepped forward to accept it and handed it to Gu Fei.

Gu Fei glanced over it briefly, then tossed it aside, utterly indifferent.

Feng Lizhi’s brow furrowed deeper. “My grandfather says this is not necessarily a good thing for you. You traded half a formula for this position—when your appointment is announced at the guild’s grand ceremony in September, there will surely be those who wish you harm.”

“The grand ceremony?” Gu Fei paid little heed to the rest, her attention caught by those words.

Feng Lizhi, clearly vexed, replied, his mind full of worries. He had even planned to persuade Gu Fei to give up the post and work her way up according to guild tradition, but here she was, more concerned about the ceremony itself. It was truly a case of the servant worrying more than the master.

“Yes, in our trade, ink-making is best done in February and September each year. True, one can make ink at other times, but without expertise, the changing seasons often lead to failure. Thus, every February and September, the guild in Yizhou holds a grand ceremony—one of the city's major events.”

September was fast approaching, and preparations for the ceremony were already underway.

Gu Fei fell into deep thought. The ceremony had caught her off guard. She knew February and September were special months for ink-makers—for example, back at the Mo family in the capital, everyone would be so busy at those times that their feet barely touched the ground, gathering supplies and making as much ink as possible for the year.

Feng Lizhi continued, “Grandfather says this invitation is only the official notice—so you can prepare. Your new title will be announced at the ceremony.”

He sighed again, glancing at Gu Fei, worry etched on his face. “Grandfather wants me to remind you, becoming an Ink Envoy is no easy task. If you—”

“That’s enough. I will be the Ink Envoy,” Gu Fei cut him off with a wave.

Feng Lizhi shook his head; clearly, he felt Gu Fei was stubborn beyond reason. Such determination could be a headache for those around her.

“By the way, I hear this year’s ceremony will host an honored guest from the capital. No one knows who yet,” he changed the subject, “but I suspect it’s someone from the Mo family. Still, it could be someone else. Whoever it is, there will be an opportunity to demonstrate ink-making skills in person—a rare chance…”

The Mo family of the capital?

Feng Lizhi continued speaking, but Gu Fei barely heard him; those words echoed in her mind, leaving her dazed for a long while.

If someone from the Mo family was coming, who would it be?

“Miss, I hear you were looking for me?” Suddenly, You Hu’s voice, low and mellow as drunken wine, drifted in from the entrance of the flower hall.

Gu Fei returned to herself, realizing only then that Feng Lizhi was looking at You Hu with an unreadable expression. She had not heard a word Feng Lizhi had spoken for the past while.

She nodded to You Hu, then turned to Feng Lizhi with an apologetic smile. “Forgive me, Lizhi, I was lost in thought.”

Feng Lizhi snorted, tilting his chin as he gave her a sidelong glare of dissatisfaction. “Lost in thought? At least two whole quarter-hours, I called you and you didn’t hear. What could have absorbed you so completely?”

He asked naturally, ignoring You Hu’s entrance. Feng Lizhi had always been this way—if someone did not enter his regard, even the emperor himself was invisible to him; but if he cared for someone, even the lowliest ant was precious.

Such was Feng Lizhi’s pride—innate, flowing through his very blood. Call him arrogant or haughty, he acted always with unfiltered candor.

Gu Fei did not hide it. “I was contemplating the guest from the capital you mentioned. There are only a few ink-making families there; it’s not hard to guess.”

Feng Lizhi’s interest was piqued, his eyes brightening. “Oh? Who do you think it will be?”

Gu Fei laughed, raising her sleeve to cover her lips. “As for that, I cannot say.”

At her words, Feng Lizhi was momentarily stunned, realizing he had been teased. He did not take offense, leisurely sipping his tea. But before he could swallow—

“I know,” You Hu spoke up, his porcelain-pale face bearing a careless ease, slanted brows, long phoenix eyes, lips tinged with a natural crimson, curved in a captivating arc. “I know who will attend the Yizhou Ink Merchants’ Grand Ceremony in September.”